


If I Bought You a Star would You Give Me the Moon?

by liobi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M, Other, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:14:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liobi/pseuds/liobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave made his way back to his room and slammed the door to that too. He turned up the volume for his shitty boom box as loud as it could go, and D12 blared over everything hurting his ears. It inexplicably could not stop him from hearing John. </p>
<p>Series of drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Bought You a Star would You Give Me the Moon?

He knew John could hear him, slamming the fridge shut wasn’t exactly the quietest thing in the world in an apartment with paper walls after all. Balancing three beers and a turkey sandwich with five kinds of cheese, Dave made his way back to his room and slammed the door to that too. He turned up the volume for his shitty boom box as loud as it could go, and D12 blared over everything hurting his ears. 

It inexplicably could not stop him from hearing John. 

It had been an average day; post-thanksgiving sales commercials had dominated the television, as did football. Dave didn’t really know anything about football, he mostly just rooted for the Cowboys. Hometown pride and all that. Dave’s brother knew a lot about football. Once, he had broken into the locker room and given every player a smuppet, carefully tucked inside the lockers, before making it back to his season seats before the first changeover. Dave just sat and ate nachos, wondering when the game would be finished.

Football grew on him though, kind of like the mold of an unwashed jockstrap left in a pile of equally moist laundry for several months. He bonded with his brother over it, complained about stupid coaching decisions, poor trades, shitty food quality at the stadium. Even if it was the most uninteresting thing in the world, he could drive himself to talk about it if it meant spending time with his brother. 

The stats behind it became interesting: percentage of passes and runs, the success of each, what plays the team liked to run. The numbers stuck out to Dave, lingering on the inside of his eyelids when he slept, and running in the back of his mind when he crossed the street. He was only 11 when he figured out how to predict who would win the game three times out of four.

Dave’s infatuation with numbers exploded when he reached middle school. His test results were off the charts if it had anything to do with them, and they put him in the fast track for advancement. He got into MIT at 15, graduated with a masters in general mathematics and statistics at 19. Five years later, he was making bank with his systems predicting stock prices and which team would win. He also lived in a shitty apartment in Seattle with his roommate John Egbert.

It _had_ been an average day until John crashed through the door kissing some Indian dude. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty, and Egbert was pushing him down on the goddamn table like he was a holiday turkey. He looked up at Dave gasping for breath, shrugged sheepishly as if to say “Hey, sorry I’m practically fucking this guy on our table, didn’t know you were home, how’s life?”

John’s weird Asian girlfriend, Vriska something, practically skipped through the front door after that. “Come on, hurry up! It’s not like we’re serving him for dinner.” She turned and winked at Dave. “That way, anyways.” Dave managed to look away as her tongue slid down the kid’s cheek but he couldn’t block out his gasps when her teeth bit down on his neck. 

“Gee Karkat, anyone ever tell you how pretty the noises you make are?”

“Fuck you!”

“That was our plan, numb nuts.”

John laughed and pulled the kid off the table by the collar of his turtleneck, practically tossing him into the room as Vriska skipped after him, before he turned back to Dave. “Sorry, didn’t know you were getting back today.” It didn’t stop him from walking into the room, shutting the door, and proceeding to make interesting noises with the other two however.

And he can still fucking hear them over Eminem’s lyrics.

At this point he started counting the seconds until they stopped moaning.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is from a bunch of drabbles I found on my computer that I realized I hadn't published. Let me know if you guys think I should continue them!


End file.
